


Catoptrophobia

by QueenofBaws (Sisterwives)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Illusions, Manifestation of powers, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sisterwives/pseuds/QueenofBaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>n: Fear of mirrors.</p><p>Something was wrong with Ienzo. Very, very wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catoptrophobia

You're afraid of him.  
  
The realization hits you like a freight train as you stand there, staring wide-eyed and slack jawed into the mirror. You are absolutely, unequivocally  _terrified_  of him. Strangely enough, you have no memory of when the transition began. It's as though you went to sleep last night, entirely unthreatened by his presence, and woke up seized by animalistic horror.   
  
You'd always cherished his silence, above all else. It had allowed you to imagine he was simply absorbing your infinite wisdom, taking in your lessons and advice as a sponge would water. You came from a generation where children were to be seen and not heard, after all, and he had always been so good about that. But now…now he was seeming less and less an apt pupil by the second. Now he struck you as the wordless, all-knowing child specter of a horror film.   
  
The idea is only reinforced by those  _eyes_. You can see them so clearly in the mirror, as you approach. So bright and sharp, and full of terrible understanding. They've fallen on you, and immediately you're rocked with the same sort of quiet terror experienced when peering into a dark room. Something is looking back at you, you know, but you haven't the foggiest of exactly  _what_  it is. You can feel them boring straight into your mind, right through your very core, and you are rooted to the spot in fear. He's holding your gaze so confidently, so strongly in the mirror, but a quick glance to the side assures you that it's impossible.  
  
Because he's still having his talk with Xehanort on the other side of the room. He's nowhere near you.  
  
And yet there he is, close enough to reach out and touch. You can see his breath fogging the mirror's surface, almost as though he were trapped on the other side. You begin to wonder if you're going insane.   
  
Your heart is in your throat as you continue to stare, perplexed by the situation at hand. Your reflection is still there, but  _behind_  him--you can see the abject confusion wrought across your own face, see your features warped by fright. His eyes follow yours despite each movement you make, and it suddenly becomes imperative that you maintain eye contact. It's likely more instinct than anything, some primal portion of your brain screaming that lowering your gaze might result in getting your throat torn open.   
  
You've been down in the labs too long, you think. All of those failed experiments, the strange creatures, the swirls of darkness materializing out of nothing, they're all starting to get to you, that's all.   
  
"Ienzo?" you ask, just loud enough to be heard. You need to know, you  _need_  to. "Ienzo?" you call again, a bit louder, this time.  
  
"Not  _now_ , Even," he snaps from where he stands with Xehanort, the two returning to their hushed conversation and shifting eyes.  
  
The expression on his reflection never falters, even as you hear his voice ring out. It _does_  cock its head to the side, ever so slightly, though. You're not sure if it's intrigued or mocking.   
  
You swallow hard as you take those last steps forward, brow furrowed and skin clammy. No part of this is  _right_ , no part of this  _makes sense_. But as though possessed, you begin to reach toward his image, if only to tell your mind that it was nothing more than a mirror, some strange trick of the light and an overworked imagination.   
  
The chill of the glass is oddly soothing against your fingers, and for a split second, your muscles relax. You blink hard once or twice to try and clear the damned mirage from your sight, but to your chagrin, it's still there. And then, impossibly, his hands slam against the mirror, the force sending you careening back. You lose your balance and fall back with an embarrassing shout, regaining your bearings in just enough time to watch as his face melts into something black, bleeding, and broken. His jaw elongates and hangs unnaturally, eyes glinting yellow gems sunk deep into his skull, and while you hear nothing, you can more than imagine the shrill and piercing shriek being emitted from that horrible maw. Mottled claws scrabble against the other side of the mirror like a dog begging to be let back in, and you begin searching your arms for scratches, though the rational part of your mind knows there can be none.  
  
You realize belatedly that Xehanort and Ienzo have turned from their conversation to stare. Xehanort pauses for only a moment more before exhaling tiredly and shaking his head. Without another word, he turns to leave, Ienzo close in tow. But just as he's about to reach the doorway, Ienzo glances over his shoulder, and he  _smiles_  down at you.   
  
The color drains from your face as understanding blooms at the forefront of your mind, cruel and illogical.  _He knows_. The thing in the mirror is laughing, now, inhuman tongue lolling out against the glass. Ienzo shakes his head, and you hear the faintest snickering before everything snaps back to normal.  
  
There's nothing in the mirror, now, but you. You turn to find that Ienzo, too, has disappeared from the door's threshold. You're left alone with your own reflection and the horrible realization that perhaps he  _had_  learned something from you.   
  
Human test subjects yield the most interesting results.


End file.
